Of Chocolate, Love, and Death
by TheLastStroke
Summary: Fred and Angelina's relationship one year after the ball 7th year, i think Things aren't exactly going great...
1. Fred and Angelina

Summary: Angelina and Fred's relationship a year after the Yule Ball ( 7th year, I think). Things aren't exactly going great.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of J.K Rowling's characters. Although, I do own Julian Casablancas of the Strokes. what's that? Sorry, I don't own him either. Just this story. * Sigh *.  
  
A/N: Single quotes (' ') represent thoughts.  
  
Chapter 1: Angelina and Fred  
  
"All right, then."  
  
That wasn't the answer Angelina Johnson had expected to use to answer her first invitation to the ball. But then, she hadn't expected to be asked by a yell across the Gryffindor common room. She had seen the muggle movies, after all, and that was never how it was done. She had always envisioned roses, kisses, and "I love you's" for something as important and groundbreaking as a date to the dance.  
  
Angelina Johnson was a hopeless romantic.  
  
Brown skin coupled with dark hair, her father always called her his little chocolate. Fred Weasley loved chocolate. And, apparently, he loved Angelina, too.  
  
Not that she had ever heard it from him. It was her friends who constantly reminded her of Fred's adoration. Angelina believed them, but sometimes, considering how little had happened in the last year, it was easy to doubt it. After a quick kiss at the end of the Yule Ball, it seemed Fred and Angelina were back where they started.  
  
Now, one year later, they had never officially started going out, never even had a date alone. Yet everyone knew they were an item. Fred ate with Angelina at meals, partnered her in class, and delivered unbelievable kisses when the two were alone. He wasn't a big fan of public displays of affection. And Angelina could accept that.  
  
But she couldn't accept this.  
  
* * * * Flashback * * * *  
  
When Angelina had commented to Fred that the two of them were rarely alone, he merely laughed.  
  
"Why would you want to be alone for? It's great hanging with the gang." He said distractedly, sorting through pages of notes.  
  
"I know," Angelina said, slightly uncomfortable. She suddenly wished she hadn't said anything. "But.."  
  
Fred sighed, finally looking up from his charms essay and giving her his full attention.  
  
"What is this really about?" he shot her a quizzical glance.  
  
"I just. want to. act more like, you know, a couple." She finally got out. She didn't really know what she was afraid of, but the words still had trouble coming out. He laughed.  
  
"Is that all? Well, whatever makes you happy, I guess." He shrugged. " Let's meet on Saturday, an hour before breakfast. We can hang out near the lake. Alone." He added the last part with an amused smirk, as if her request to be alone was an absurd one. Angelina was ecstatic. A chance to be with Fred, to talk. But then she had another thought.  
  
"It's supposed to rain on Saturday." She sighed. "How will we meet outside?"  
  
Fred straightened, looking at his girlfriend seriously.  
  
"I'll meet you there anyway."  
  
Angelina grinned. Now that was the romantic Fred she knew was there somewhere. A scene in the rain sounded just like one of her favorite movies.  
  
"Anyways," Fred continued, suddenly looking hurried. "I've really got to talk to George,." he continued talking, mostly to himself, shuffling papers anxiously. Before she had time to snap Fred out of his reverie, he was across the room, talking urgently to his twin. Angelina smiled. Fred's bond with his twin was an amazing one.  
  
Sighing, she finally sat down to finish her own Charms essay, resisting the urge to sneak a peek at what Fred had written. He was much smarter than people gave him credit for, and Angelina usually loved a chance to copy.  
  
But at the moment, she was wrapped up in a cotton candy dream of the time she would spend with Fred on the weekend.  
  
'Finally, ' she had thought. 'Maybe life is like the movies after all.'  
  
* * * * End Flashback * * * *  
  
'Yes.' She had thought with a bitter laugh. 'This is just like the movies. Any moment now there will be the dramatic scene in which Fred comes out, laughing, telling me that our entire relationship has been the result of a bet. What a jerk.'  
  
Angelina winced. No matter how hurt she was, it still killed to think of Fred in a cruel way. Besides, Angelina knew the truth. Fred had not stood her up, he had merely forgotten her. And the fact that she didn't even matter enough to him to be remembered was worse than being purposely stood up.  
  
Sighing, Angelina walked to the lake and threw her feet in. It was Saturday, and breakfast would be over in a few minutes. Angelina had barely been able to sleep the night before due to anticipation of a real, true date with Fred. He had said to meet her at seven am. She therefore woke up at five thirty. She took a long, calming bath, let her hair hang down instead of in its usually braid, and put on just enough casual make- up. This was pretty big for her, considering she usually took all of ten minutes to get ready.  
  
Rain pelted Angelina like sharp icicles, and similar drops fell from the clouds that were her eyes. Despite the temperature, which was below twenty degrees, and the frozen rain, Angelina did not feel cold. All she felt was the naked, ached pain of someone coming to a horrible realization.  
  
' Maybe this is my fault,' she thought, desperately trying to find some possible explanation that would explain to her what was happening. 'Maybe I was stupid to believe that he would come out in the rain.' she paused for a moment, playing with the idea. Did Fred even like the rain? Come to think of it, why didn't she know? All of the other couples knew their significant others like the backs of their hand. Why, even George Weasley could tell you in a heartbeat what his girlfriend Alicia Spinnet's favorite color, flower, and time of the year.  
  
She shook her head. 'I have no idea with Fred. I don't know what he wants or needs because he never talks to me.'  
  
* * * Flashback * * * *  
  
The end of sixth year: Train ride home  
  
All of the gang was excited. Oliver Wood was planning to meet his girlfriend Katie Bell at the Quidditch World Cup, where he would to introduce her to his parents. George Weasley had presented Alicia with a bouquet of daffodils. Neither of the two couples were really interested in anyone else in the world.  
  
Angelina glanced at Fred, who was looking uncharacteristically sulky, sending dirty looks at Alicia when she wasn't looking. Angelina knew that he felt jealous of someone else occupying large amounts of his twin's time. However, she felt like screaming. Couldn't he take a break from George to talk to his own girlfriend? He would usually sit down and chat every once in a while, and jump up guiltily when he realized that he was not with George.  
  
Who loved their brother that dearly?  
  
Never one to sit back and wait, Angelina ignited a conversation, but it was that of two polite strangers, not lovers that would be separated for three months. They talked of the weather, the winning Quidditch team. Nothing of real importance. Fred broke the awkward silence with an aggravated sigh. He walked calmly out of the compartment, and returned silently, taking up his seat. Angelina gave him a questioning look.  
  
"Is something wrong?" she asked simply. Fred didn't look at her.  
  
"Your damn right there is, but we can't talk about it now." He said with a smile. Angelina, instead of being offended at his rudeness, giggled. It was Fred's turn to look confused.  
  
"I'm sorry," Angelina said between laughs. "It's just that. that's a line from Tiny Vessels, and I was just listening to that song before we left!" She suddenly stopped laughing, wondering if Fred's quote had been intentional, if he even knew the song, or if he really was angry. When she looked at him, though, she was relieved to see he was smiling.  
  
"You listen to Death Cab For Cutie?" he grinned. "I know they aren't, like, completely obscure, but I haven't met anyone in the castle who listens to good Muggle music."  
  
Angelina was thrilled, and the two discussed bands for the rest of the trip. Fred had even invited his girlfriend to see a concert with him this summer.  
  
I bought two tickets and then George tells me he hates them. " Fred broke off suddenly, that same guilty look on his face, as though he had committed a serious act of betrayal.  
  
"Oh, sorry Angelina. I d-don't think I can see you this summer after all." Fred stopped lost in his thoughts. Angelina hid her crushing disappointment behind a smile and a 'I don't mind. I'll send you an owl sometime.'  
  
Fred had merely nodded absently at her, than walked out of the compartment and Angelina' life for three months without so much as a good- bye.  
  
* * * End Flashback * * * *  
  
Angelina wiped her final tears away, rang out her soaking hair, and trudged morosely up to the castle.  
  
I can't do this anymore.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
A/n: So, any thoughts? Any at all? In the next few chapters, you'll find out why Fred is feeling guilty about George. Guilty enough to stand up our beloved protagonist Angelina? Better be good Fred..  
  
Anywayz, I'm going to continue this story despite any flames, so ha. However, I am absolutely dying for feedback, constructive criticism is not only accepted, it is very much needed. If you have any ideas at all, please review.  
  
Thanks, all! 


	2. We Come Crashing Down

Chapter 2: We Come Crashing Down  
  
Angelina didn't bother with breakfast. She was sure that the growing dread in her stomach wasn't leaving room for anything else.  
  
She dried off, changed her robes. Then she flopped wearily onto her bed, glad, for once, that Katie and Alicia were out on dates. She needed the uninterrupted silence to contemplate.  
  
What did Fred want from her? And what did she need from Fred? And, most confusing of all, why did Fred suddenly feel the need to attach himself to George, while George didn't seem to really want the extra attention anyway?  
  
It was true. Alicia had confided to Angelina that the she and George frequently had to sneak off so as not to be followed by Fred. Alicia hadn't seemed to upset, she actually giggled as she talked to Angelina.  
  
"You must be doing something wrong girl, because Fred is one bored kid!" Alicia had laughed, joking, before walking off.  
  
'Great.' Angelina thought. 'It's a joke for her, but it's a searing knife to my heart. '  
  
"What the bloody hell am I doing wrong!" she cried out in frustration.  
  
It hadn't always been this way. In fact, they had been quite happy until that dreadful train ride at the end of last year.  
  
Angelina sighed to herself, memories flooding back. The day she had faked sick and spent the day with Fred. The day he gave her her first real kiss, in the moonlight, at the end of the ball. She remembered trying to hold in her bursting ecstasy at having found the love of her life when Alicia had been completely depressed over George not noticing her.  
  
Then there was this year, and Fred had acquired his new obsession to George. Of course they had rarely been seen without one and other, but this was ridiculous. Fred seemed to feel some kind of guilt every second he wasn't near his twin.  
  
'Right. And he can stand me up for an hour without feeling a thing.' She thought miserably.  
  
She wasn't wrong. The Weasley twins were currently happily sitting in a corner, planning more attacks against Umbridge. Neither seemed to have a care in the world.  
  
No.Angelina suddenly corrected her thought. Fred didn't care about anything. George was happily talking to Alicia.  
  
Angelina walked over to where the trio was sitting. Taking a deep breath, she turned to her boyfriend, who hadn't acknowledged her presence and was still scribbling away on his parchment. Angelina coughed loudly.  
  
"Um.Fred? Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?" she grew nervous and anxious as he turned to her, a look of annoyance on his face.  
  
"We're a tad busy here Angelina. Can't it wait until later?" he asked impatiently.  
  
'Just be strong.' she thought to herself,  
  
"No." she replied forcefully. " I need to talk to you now." She emphasized the last word. Sighing, Fred got up to join her.  
  
"Let's go outside." Angelina said anxiously. Fred peered out the window.  
  
"Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetie, but its raining." He replied with a harsh twinge of sarcasm dripping off every word.  
  
"That's all right." Angelina's face hardened. "I think I'm getting used to the rain." Fred shrugged.  
  
"Okay. I love the rain." He replied. Angelina winced inwardly as she followed him down the stairs.  
  
* * *  
  
Fred lay lazily on the ground next to a weeping will that had raindrops sliding off every leaf. Angelina took that as her cue to start the conversation.  
  
"Do you remember when you asked me to meet you before breakfast?" she asked nervously. To her disappointment, no look of realization or remorse crossed Fred.  
  
"It was raining." He said. Raindrops continued to fall in a slow, steady rhythm.  
  
"You just said you loved the rain." Angelina replied, fighting to keep her voice even. Fred remained stubborn.  
  
"Okay, sorry. I forgot, it'll never happen again." He said, standing up and wiping the dirt off of his wet robes. "Now let's go back inside, I'm really busy."  
  
"I'm tired of this, Fred." Angelina said wearily. He didn't seem to understand.  
  
"I'm tired, too. Now let's go back to the castle."  
  
"Not tired of this date, tired of this dying relationship!" Angelina finally burst out. This was all too much. Fred gave her a tired look. She continued.  
  
"And now this! I'm trying to break up with you, and you don't even care." She was close to tears now. "I am not an emotional person, Fred. I opened up and gave myself to you, and you threw me away with barely a sigh."  
  
Fred stared at her.  
  
"So," he said. Angelina closed her eyes, praying the next words would be some form of apology or explanation.  
  
"So," he repeated. Angelina opened her eyes. Fred continued. "If that's all you have to say to me, I better be heading back to the castle." And that was it. That was the last, fatal blow to Angelina's heart, and as Fred stumbled up to the grounds, Angelina fell to the floor, to exhausted and destroyed even for tears.  
  
A/n: La dee da, no reviews, but I don't care! (Talk about denial. If you would like to help me face this problem, please click on the happy button at the bottom. That is all.) 


	3. Such a Stellar Monument to Loneliness

Chapter 3: Such a Stellar Monument to Loneliness  
  
A/n: In this fic, Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Oliver are all in the seventh year. That goes against the book I know, but what can I do? Also, song lyrics will be in these ~ ~.  
  
Disclaimer: This is for chapter 2 and 3 since I forgot to remind you last time that I do not own any of the characters or places or things in this story. I also don't own Dashboard Confessional's song, Awake.  
  
Fred reached his dorm and dropped into his bed, face buried in the pillows. It was empty since Oliver and George were out and Fred found himself. alone.  
  
He spoke the word aloud, almost afraid of it. Fred was always surrounded by people, and if not in huge crowds, at least with his twin or his girlfriend.  
  
A few minutes later, the door opened to reveal a very happy Oliver Wood. He jumped around the room, humming to himself, ensconced in dreams, while Fred lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, consumed by his nightmares.  
  
When Oliver finally noticed his beater lying dejectedly on the bed, he turned to him.  
  
"Hey, buddy!" He exclaimed happily, trying to cheer him up. After a death glare form Fred, Wood changed his tactic to one that was less perky. "Listen, Fred," he began again, soothingly, " I know why your so upset and I just wanted you to know." Wood was cut of by a strangled yelp from Fred, who had jumped up in astonishment.  
  
"You know what's wrong? You, of all people? Good Lord, has Angelina told everyone?" Fred exclaimed incredulously.  
  
"Angelina?" Wood asked, confused. "What does she have to do with anything? I thought you were worried about the upcoming match against Slytherin."  
  
Fred sighed, punching his pillows. He slid back down to his depressed position.  
  
"No Oliver," he said, talking slowly, as one would to a three year old. "You are the one who obsesses over stupid school sports." Oliver took a seat next to Fred on his own bed.  
  
"Come on, Fred. I'm sorry I assumed it was Quidditch. Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?" he said sympathetically. Fred gave him a sour look.  
  
"Sounds great. After I spill my guts and share all of my feelings, would you mind painting my nails? Don't forget, I'm a winter." Fred said sarcastically. Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and stared Fred down, knowing he would give in. It was the same thing he did when Fred didn't cooperate on the pitch. As expected, Fred caved and told Oliver the entire story, starting with him standing up Angelina and ending with him being silent during the break-up. Oliver let out a low, hollow laugh.  
  
"Well, I feel stupid. Here I was thinking you actually like Angelina." Oliver said. Fred glared at him.  
  
"Like her? She was the best thing in my life." Fred said heatedly, than became silent as his words sank in.  
  
"Are you kidding me, Fred? Considering how closed off you've been to everyone but George this year, I'm surprised she stuck with you this long. She was your girlfriend, mate. Your job was to make her feel special."  
  
Fred turned away from Oliver. He didn't the like the past tense in which Wood was talking, it made the horror of his situation finally seem real. It was like watching Godzilla, laughing at the fake special effects, then turning on the news to see people calmly discussing the dragon that was eating buildings in Tokyo.  
  
"My job?" he whispered, talking more to the wall than to Wood. "I thought we were just friends that kissed." Oliver shook his head, completely astounded be Fred's stupidity.  
  
"Oh, you kissed her? You don't even talk to her! You know, Fred, this isn't just about some stupid 'rules of dating'. If you and Angelina never started going out and you started acting like this- ignoring her, being rude and impatient, standing her up- you would have lost your friendship." Oliver sighed and turned to get up.  
  
"But I have one more question for you, Fred." Oliver said, his hand on the doorknob. "You've never been the quiet type. When Angelina broke up with you, why didn't you say anything?"  
  
Fred had a new look on his face, and when Oliver turned to look at him, he was shocked by it. Fred's eyes showed so much hidden pain and longing. With a shrug, Fred turned to look fully at Wood, his eyes once again covered by their darkness.  
  
"Well, at first, I couldn't say anything. It didn't seem like it was really happening. Then, I didn't want to break down in front of my girlfriend. I guess I figured if I changed the situation around- to make it seem like I was the one blowing her off- she'd come back to me." Oliver still didn't leave. He walked away from the door and stood beside Fred's bed.  
  
"Well, you know," Wood began. "All is not lost. Go find Angelina, tell her what you told me."  
  
"Great. Then we can get back together, the same things will happen and she'll break up with me again." Fred said in a monotone.  
  
"Really, Fred, you've got to stop acting like this. Why do you think you need to be around George all the time?" Wood asked. "Besides, its not as if he always wants you," This time, Oliver was cut off again, not by Fred's words, but by his fist.  
  
* * *  
  
After that incident, in which Wood was knocked unconscious and Fred was given a month and a half of detention, Fred's life continued spiraling down into darkness.  
  
Katie Bell hated him. She refused to go anywhere near him, and shunned him when he was there. She was under the impression he had knocked her boyfriend down for no good reason.  
  
Oliver Wood hated him, and said repeatedly he would never try to help him out again.  
  
Alicia Spinnet, of all people, hated him. She had finally gotten upset that he was always hanging around, and when Angelina told her what happened between the two of them, Alicia decided not to talk to her boyfriend's brother any more.  
  
Fred didn't know if Angelina hated him, but he was pretty sure she did. She avoided him at all costs. George, Fred's twin brother and fellow prankster, could never hate him.  
  
But he could easily get very mad at him.  
  
"I know why your always hanging around, but come on, Fred, let it go! Let me enjoy whatever time I have at Hogwarts!" he had yelled heatedly. Then he walked away, leaving Fred completely and utterly, alone.  
  
He was no longer afraid of that word. A few months after the break up, alone was the word that defined him.  
  
He woke up one morning and couldn't go back to sleep. He was alone, so he turned on some music and listened to it from his bed. It seemed to tell his life story.  
  
~Awake. Through the years it takes to see you. Till I almost lose my mind. Cuz I'll never be all right.~  
  
Fred started wishing he could go to bed and not wake up the next morning. He felt nothing, ate nothing, did none of his homework. He even quit the Quidditch team. No one protested. He knew then that Angelina really hated him, and though he tried not to think of her, the song continued in his head.  
  
~I'm scared to miss the way we used to talk, And if it's all forever lost, I want to know. I'm scared that you're the one that got away. And I want you here with me tonight.~  
  
Then things got worse, as he became reckless, trying to lose his life accidentally, doing things like drinking, not sleeping, fighting with anyone and everyone, except his former friends, who ignored him.  
  
Since he had been kicked out of his dorm after punching Wood, not even George Weasley knew about what was happening to his twin.  
  
* * *  
  
Perhaps the only person suffering even half as much as Fred was Ginny Weasley.  
  
Ginny did not love Hogwarts. As a little, shy girl with a hidden temper, Ginny had found it hard to find friends in her first few years of Muggle schooling. The only time she had some friends, she became so grateful to them that she became their puppet, doing things for them rather than with them. When her 'friends' abandoned her, Ginny realized she had been used. As she walked into Hogwarts, she vowed not to talk to people, and to be cold when they approached her. She figured the right kind of friends would finally appear and she would be happy, but it never happened. In her three years at Hogwarts, she had no one.  
  
And then Angelina had come along, and Ginny finally had someone to shop with, or girl talk with. Angelina was Ginny's guardian, and Ginny was completely dependant on her. However, after Angelina broke up with George, she avoided the entire Weasley clan.  
  
So, Ginny also hated Fred, for taking away her one true friend.  
  
* * * Fred lay lazily on his bed, as he did everyday. This time, though, his brain traveled backwards in time, back to his worst memory.  
  
Anyone who'd like to see the next chapter soon, all you have to do is review! 


	4. Fred's Worst Memory

Chapter 4: Fred's Worst Memory  
  
Disclaimer: I still don't own J.K Rowling's books, characters, or other possessions. If I did, well, the possibilities would be endless. But they aren't.  
  
A/N: Are you all ready for this? The big moment, the explanation? You are? Well, aren't you in luck today!  
  
* * * Flashback * * *  
  
The Burrow: 12 Years Ago  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked fondly out the window at her two five year old twins.  
They were, obviously, inseparable, and at the moment, they were having a  
snowball fight.  
  
Mrs. Weasley's look darkened as she turned to face her neighbor's house.  
The Malfoys had hated the Weasleys ever since they moved in. They  
constantly bragged about how they were moving soon and wouldn't be living  
next to such filth.  
  
The Malfoys were so insufferable, it shocked many of the neighbors to see  
how their tiny son, Draco, was so shy and frightened. They soon came to  
the realization, however, that anyone who's father was so demanding and  
intimidating would have to grow up afraid of the world.  
  
Mrs. Weasley loved Draco. He was only over 2 years old, but his father  
had already taught him to talk, read, and write, and could be heard all  
over the street pushing him to do better. Draco would write letters and  
little stories to Mrs. Weasley, who had met him crying outside his house  
one day. The two had become fast friends, and as Draco grew older, she  
started keeping files of his writing and her daughter Ginny's drawings.  
  
But on that particular day, Mrs. Weasley did not see Draco as he toddled  
into the Weasley's backyard. Fred and George didn't see him either and as  
they ran back and forth across the yard, Fred tripped over the little  
child. Draco had been on his hands and knees, and when Fred knocked him  
over, he landed on top of the Mrs. Weasley's rose bushes.  
  
As George rushed forth to help the child up, he noticed a thin line of  
blood cutting straight through Draco's back. It was not a deep cut, and  
if the twins had been a little older, they could have taken care of it.  
But, alas, they were five, so they did what kids do best: yelled for  
their mom.  
  
Mrs. Weasley came running, and unfortunately, so did Luicius Malfoy, who  
had noticed his son missing. Mrs. Weasley so the situation and  
immediately performed a small healing spell on little Draco, but not  
before Mr. Malfoy spotted the blood on his baby boy.  
  
Watching spots of snow turn a light pink from spilt blood as the baby's  
cut healed, Mr. Malfoy turned to the twins, pulled out his wand, and  
uttered the word that Fred would hear in his dreams twelve years later.  
  
"Dimorgue!" he muttered at the twins before scooping up his child and  
going home, telling his wife Narcissa to start calling the Real Estate  
Agent.  
  
* * *  
  
Mr. Weasley looked sadly at his two sons, wondering how in the world he  
would be able to explain this to them. They knew what death was from the  
passing of Arthur Weasley's father the year before. But, if they  
understood death entirely was a different matter.  
  
"Fred, George," Mr. Weasley began uneasily. "Mr. Malfoy has moved his  
family. But, " he continued, speaking over the twins cheers, " before he  
left, he cast a very serious spell on the two of you, a spell that can  
only affect identical twins."  
  
" Dimorgue, or two deaths, is the spell." Mrs. Weasley broke in, sobbing.  
George looked up at his two parents.  
  
"Either of you care to explain what that does?" he asked in a small  
voice. Mrs. Weasley was still crying, so Arthur had to explain.  
  
"George, I don't know how to make this easy, but you will only live to be  
eighteen. You will die physically. Fred, you will not only have to  
continue to live life without your twin, you will start to close off  
anyone who you love. You will die emotionally. And that, I'm afraid, can  
not be undone."  
  
"The only thing we can change, is how you will die. What that means is,  
if we shed Fred's blood over snow and say the switch spell, Fred will die  
physically, and George emotionally." Mr. Weasley explained all of this in  
a monotone. He then went up to his bathroom, turned the shower on, and  
cried where no one could hear him behind the sound of the water.  
  
* * * End Flashback * * *  
  
Fred couldn't get the scene out of his head. The twins would turn  
eighteen next week. Fred was miserable because he had ruined George's  
last few months by sticking to him. He didn't want to be apart now and  
regret not spending enough time when George was dead. Then who would he  
talk to? He had loved Angelina, and the spell took her away from him.  
Without George and Angelina, Fred would wonder through life depressed.  
  
'It would be easier for me to just die now.' he thought to himself. As  
the words hit him, he knew what he had to do. Getting up, he sent an owl  
to his parents:  
  
Dear Mum and Dad,  
  
I want to switch the spell. If we don't, I will commit suicide. My life  
is pointless now, and I would rather give George the chance to be happy.  
I know you think that George will want to die also once his heart dies  
like mine has, but it won't. I've researched the spell, if you switch  
less than a month away from the eighteenth birthday, the last part  
doesn't come into effect. He will live with out me, but he will be able  
to love. The spell decides that a life of knowing you will die is  
emotional damage enough. Give George another chance at a happy life, and  
give me a chance to end this aching.  
  
Fred.  
  
Walking to the owelry, Fred gave the letter to an owl, and then went up  
to the common room, a place he he hadn't been in months. Sitting  
defiantly in an armchair despite people's glares, he stared at Angelina.  
He would die in a week, and for one week, he would secretly watch her,  
enjoy her while he could.  
  
A/N: Awwww, baby twins. I really couldn't resist. I know it's a little  
depressing, but I think you'll enjoy the ending. ( I hope!)  
  
You've read, now review! Please? 


	5. It's the Year to be Hated

Disclaimer: Hey, everyone else had one, so I figured, hell, it must be fun to put up a disclaimer every freakin' chapter! Just kidding. For those of you who still don't get it, I don't own Harry Potter. I also don't own the song The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot by Brand New.  
  
A/n: 15 reviews!! Are you kidding?! If people could die of utter joy and happiness, I would be too dead to continue. But seriously, I didn't think anyone would read my story, let alone enjoy it! You haven't the faintest conception how much those words affected me.  
  
Moving on, I'd just like to send messages to some people. FredsAngel, you cried! I know I shouldn't be happy, but you were affected! Thanx a ton, also, too Ashleigh, Aimee Bell, Tedabug, and everyone else who spent their time reviewing.  
  
Settings will be in /. And, if anyone knows, my italicized words come out normal when I transfer the file from Microsoft Word to fanfiction.net. If you know how I can fix that, I'd be much obliged.  
  
*I know you can't apparate in Hogwarts, but in my story you can. So there. *  
  
Chapter 5: It's the Year to be Hated  
  
/April 16th, 11:50 PM- The Great Hall./  
  
All of the seventh years in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw grew anxious as the clock moved slowly towards midnight. They had come together to sneak in and decorate the Great Hall for George Weasley's eighteenth birthday.  
  
George's birthday. Not Fred's.  
  
Fred's unpopularity with the Quidditch team had spred like an insidious disease through all of Gryffindor, and then to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Slytherin, obviously, didn't care. They had never liked the famous twins anyway.  
  
Alicia had woken her boyfriend up at 11:30 that night, and told him simply to get dressed. Once he was ready, she covered his eyes and gently led him down to the Freat Hall. The giant doors swung open, and Alicia removed her hand's from George's eyes.  
  
"Surprise!" yelled the entire hall. And a surprise it was. George's jaw hit the floor, and his eyes grew wider and wider as they scanned the hall's decorations. The clock struck midnight, and the seventh years all cheered. They didn't know what time George was born, but it was officially his birthday, April seventeenth.  
  
"Hey, congratulations, mate!" Oliver said jovially. "It's officially time to party!" he added, handing George a butterbeer. He took it gratefully, easing into the party. His mind flashed suddenly to his lonely twin, but for once, he shook the thought off. It was his last night of life, he wanted to enjoy it.  
  
* * *  
  
/April 17th, 12:01AM- The Burrow/  
  
Fred didn't look at his parents as he stared into the fire, the only light in the dark house. Shadows held hands and skipped merrily across his empty face.  
  
"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me." Fred's harsh whispers broke the silence like a baseball breaks a window. Arthur Weasley grimaced.  
  
"It's done, Fred. The spell is reversed. You will die in twenty four hours." Fred gave his father and uncharacteristically cold, uncaring look, life he really had let go of anything that had ever mattered.  
  
"Fred?" Mrs. Weasley spoke up timidly, also out of character. " How did you tell George you wanted to switch the spell?" Fred stared at her for a few minutes.  
  
"I didn't."  
  
* * * The Great Hall had emptied out. It was now almost five a.m, and people had just gone off to sleep. Oliver, Katie, Alicia, Angelina, and George looked at the trashed hall with mildly concerned faces.  
  
"Scourgify!" Oliver muttered, waving his wand and leaving the golden tables spotless. The group decided to go upstairs , leaving George and Alicia alone. George looked nervously at his girlfriend. He had planned to tell her about the spell, but looking at her now, he just couldn't. Moving instinctively, he pulled her into his lap and kissed her gently. She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.  
  
"Happy Birthday, sweetie." She whispered softly. George swallowed, suddenly experiencing an overwhelming gratitude towards Alicia, the girl who liked him for him. The girl who saw him as an individual, not as just a twin. The girl who wasn't embarrassed by his immaturity or annoyed with his pranks. In one slow moment, all of the emotions became clear.  
  
"Alicia?" he murmured softly into her hair. She smiled at him. George took one last deep breath.  
  
"I'm in love with you."  
  
* * * Alicia gaped at her boyfriend. She searched his eyes, looking for the glint that would tell her he was joking. She didn't find it. What she did see was honesty, and fear. George Weasley was actually sharing his heart with her. She smiled happily.  
  
"I love." she began.  
  
CRACK!  
  
The couple was interrupted by Fred Weasley apparating into the room. Though his feelings had all but died, he still blushed awkwardly when he noticed the intimacy of the two.  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt," he mumbled sincerely, looking at the floor. " I just needed to tell George that Dad switched the spell." It only took a few moments for George to understand. Alicia stood up, and he followed suit. He sighed.  
  
"You want to die, Fred?" he asked quietly. Alicia stared, confused and shocked. Fred nodded simply. George fought the urge to sock his twin.  
  
"And how," George asked, trembling with suppressed anger. "How did you think I'd feel? I was mad at you Fred, I didn't hate you. I don't want to be the one to have to live without my twin!" Fred sighed. He had screwed up again. He just wanted everyone to be happy. He couldn't even accomplish that. He shrugged. None of this would matter in a few hours. George turned to Alicia.  
  
"Ali, could you please excuse us?" he asked her. Alicia gave a frightful look towards Fred. She had no idea what the twins were talking about.  
  
"Sure." She said shakily. "But Fred, I don't really hate you. You know that, right? If your thinking about, you know, suicide, just know that it would kill us. All of us. Oliver, Katie, they still care about you." Alicia said, trembling. "Angelina, well, I suppose she really does, but" she was cut off. Fred's face, which had been brightening, had just been rained on. He gave her a cold look.  
  
"She's the only one who mattered."  
  
* * *  
  
The twins apparated to their bedroom at the Burrow, where Fred explained all he had been feeling, and all of his new habits. At the end, George stood up and gave Fred a hug, something he had never done. Pats on the back, handshakes, sure. But a real, true hug, that meant simply, "I'm here for you"? Never.  
  
Fred returned the gesture, then explained that they could no longer switch the spell. It was just too late. Mr. Malfoy would be there at eleven that night, and the spell would be complete. George sighed.  
  
"Is there anything you'd like on your last day, at least?" he asked. Fred gave a hollow smile.  
  
"Angelina." He said sadly. George suddenly stood as if struck by lightening. He began rummaging in the dresser drawers. He pulled out a letter and smiled. Fred knew at once what it was, and panicked.  
  
"George, don't you dare." He said angrily. George smiled at him.  
  
"Ta ta, dear brother. I shall return with your bonny lass soon enough." He said sweetly before apparating back to Hogwarts.  
  
Fred fell back to his bed, letting out a string of curses that would have made his mother cry.  
  
* * *  
  
"Angelina! Hey, wait up!" George called, panting after her. She turned around tiredly. She was a mess. She no longer cared about appearance. Her hair hang limply, there were large circles under her eyes, and she had lost weight. Without Fred to impress, she really didn't care what other people said she looked like. However, for George, she feigned a smile.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked calmly. George looked at her.  
  
"You remember Fred, I wager?" he asked. She glared at him, then nodded. "Then there's some things you need to know."  
  
Sitting on a bench, George spilled the story to his brother's old inamorata. How Malfoy had cast the spell, how Fred wanted to treasure his last year with his brother, and how the breakup had killed Fred. Literally.  
  
Angelina stood up from the bench, turning away from George. He thought she was angry, maybe she thought he was making it all up. But a slight turn of her head, and George saw the sad look in her eyes.  
  
"I miss him, I do. And I will go with you to see him." She sighed. "But I don't think he ever really loved me."  
  
George didn't frown, or get upset. He pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket, the same letter he had taken from the bedroom. He handed it to Angelina. She looked at the envelope. On it, the words ~Unsent Letters to Angel ~ was scrawled in Fred's script.  
  
"Fred thought about you all summer. He kept saying how he wished he could gather the nerve to call you, and ask you to some concert. One day, I did see him write this to you. I told him to send it, but, alas, he isn't brave, and never did. He had already been getting a lot of grief from some of the guys at school since he talked about you all the time, and he said the letter would give you the same impression, that he was much too feminine. After the break up, he added the second piece of paper, which I haven't read." Angelina pulled the first letter out of the envelope, scanning it slowly.  
  
-Angel,  
I'm sorry I blew you off on the train. If I could tell you why I did it I would, but I'm not allowed to tell anyone. What I can tell you is that I love you, that you are the blood in my veins. I know you don't believe me, but you are the one person I feel I can bare my soul to, and I would never lie. I skipped the Death Cab For Cutie concert. I really wanted to go with you, but I never got the nerve to ask again, especially after my behavior on the train. But I think of you every time I listen to them, and that's something, isn't it? I want to talk to you, to tell you what I'm feeling, but I'm over my head and I'm scared. This year will be amazing, just you wait. Don't give up on us yet.  
Fred  
  
Angelina couldn't speak. He loved her! He always had. She suddenly felt a great longing to be with him, to talk to him. She wanted to apparate then and there, and ignore the second letter, but George was waiting for her to. She pulled it out of the envelope and read.  
  
Angelina really, truly hates me know. Everyone does, but I don't need them. I need Angelina. I've been thinking to myself lately, what would I say to her if I had the guts? And you know, I think I've figured it out the right words. They aren't mine, but I've never been quite a poet, and Angelina would recognize the song, I'm sure.  
  
" If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand. Hope you find out what you are, I already know what I am. And if it makes you less sad, we'll start talking again. You can tell me how vile I already know that I am. I'll grow old, and start acting my age. I'll be a brand new day, in a life that you hate. A crown of gold and a heart that's harder than stone. And it hurts a whole lot, but it's missed when it's gone. Call me a safe bet, I'm betting I'm not. I'm glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes that you can forget.  
  
And if it makes you less sad, I'll take your pictures all down. Every picture you paint, I will paint myself out. It's cold as a tomb, and it's dark in your room, When I sneak to your bed, to pour salt in your wounds. So call it quits, or get a grip. You say you wanted a solution; you just wanted to be missed.  
  
You are calm and reposed It lets your beauty unfold. How I like the skin stretched over your bones. Spring keeps you ever close, You are second hand smoke. You are so fragile and thin, Standing trial for your sins. Holding onto yourself the best you can. You are the smell before rain, You are the blood in my veins."  
- The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot, by Brand New  
  
When Angelina stopped smiling, she and George apparated to the Burrow. It was now five o clock in the evening, and Fred was running out of time.  
  
* * * (A/n: I was going to stop here, but I think I'm on a roll! On with the story!)  
  
Fred stood in the garden. He held out his hands, spinning slowly around in circles in the rain. April showers bring May flowers ....  
  
Angelina apparated with a crack, spotting her love standing alone in the rain.  
  
'It looks like we both waited in the rain for each other.' She thought, smiling.  
  
At the same time she apparated, she noticed Oliver, Alicia, and Katie had also. They were crying, so she assumed George had filled them in.  
  
She ignored them for now, running straight into Fred's arms and kissing him, with all of the loneliness and longing she had carried for so long. And he kissed her back, just as passionately.  
  
The kiss ended, but Angelina stayed in Fred's arms, sobbing.  
  
"I finally have you. You can't leave, you can't!" And though Fred was feeling just as upset, he stroked her hair and comforted her strongly.  
  
A/n: Man! This is a long chapter. There are only two more left, and don't worry, they'll be up soon, in the next couple of days. Until then, submit those reviews! 


	6. Certain Tragedy

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter stuffs.  
  
A/n: I know I said days, but I caved. I live to write, I write to live. I might as well finish this up before an angry mob beats down my house demanding the ending.  
  
Chapter 6: Certain Tragedy  
  
Just when things were finally sorted out between Angelina and Fred, the Malfoys turn up, Draco hanging in back, Lucius looking malicious. It was now ten pm, and the spell would be done in a mere two hours.  
  
"Let's just get this over with. I have places to be." Luicius growled.  
  
"NO!" came simultaneous screams from, of all people, Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy. Draco came forward.  
  
"You can't kill them for some stupid accident that happened years ago! What's wrong with you?" Draco asked sadly. Mr. Malfoy stepped back as if slapped. Draco never stood up to him.  
  
"He's right. Isn't there some way you can undo this?" Ginny asked pleadingly. Mr. Malfoy was now utterly confused, but, no matter how much evidence disproved it, he loved his son. He sighed.  
  
"The dimorgue spell is cast after there is a great loss of blood." He began, only to be interrupted by Molly Weasley.  
  
"Great loss, my foot! It was a little scratch." Mr. Malfoy looked completely thrown off.  
  
"I'm sorry, but the first cut is always the deepest, and that was Draco's first. He's been dying all of these years also, but because of me." And though Draco shot his father warning looks, Lucius continued.  
  
"Draco is a lonely child. He's been so intimidated by me that he's afraid of the world. He has no friends, and bullies others to hide all of the hurt and fear."  
  
"What does that have to do with the spell?!" Oliver Wood cried out angrily. Mr. Malfoy glared at him.  
  
"I'm getting to it. Draco's cut, it was the deepest, whether truly or metaphorically. When someone loses a large amount of blood, there are two ways the damage can be repaired. There can be death, or there can be new skin." Mr. Malfoy was now receiving blank looks from the entire group.  
  
"New skin." Mr. Malfoy repeated urgently. "A friend for Draco, new flesh, someone true, could mend the spell."  
  
The group racked their minds. It was ten minutes to midnight. A friend for Draco? Who on earth was that lonely, that desperate? The minutes passed by, and midnight came, showering the yard with a brilliant white light.  
  
* * *  
  
A/n: What a nice short chapter. I'm getting worn out, but I'll continue. Come on, review! It gives me strength to carry on! 


	7. For All of This

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. Ya happy now?  
  
A/n: There isn't one! Just read the story!  
  
Chapter 7 : For all of This  
  
/Many years later/  
  
The church burst with people, all sighing happily as the bride walked slowly down the aisle. Inside, Ginny wanted to run into her future husband's arms, she had never wanted anything more, but she braced herself.  
  
It was true. Ginny was marrying Draco Malfoy. She was the friend he had always needed, and he liked her for her. It was perfect bliss, and it had saved her two brothers.  
  
"And do you, Draco Malfoy, take Miss Virginia Weasley to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Dumbledore asked. They could have gotten a minister, but a wedding without their beloved headmaster would be unheard of.  
  
Draco looked at the woman standing next to him. Her gown trailed behind her, and her red curls contrasted violently. Which was why he loved her. She was a contradiction in herself, changing her likes and dislikes and moods and feelings every day. It was an adventure keeping up with her, and it brought Draco to life. When they had become friends, April 17th, in her third year and his fourth, his life truly began. He just couldn't believe she felt the same about him.  
  
* * *  
  
Fred and Angelina whirled around the room happily. Across from them were George and Alicia, and Oliver and Katie. The three couples had gotten married on the same day, and remained excellent friends. The tragedy of the past was more or less forgotten as they lived each day to the fullest.  
  
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was an absolute success. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie worked together as moms, wives, and owners of a huge music store. Oliver was Keeper of one of the best Quidditch teams in the league. It seemed finally that everyone was happy, and the joy resounded off the walls.  
  
Which leaves really, only one question. What did Draco and Ginny do? Draco continued to write, and Ginny continued to draw, until one day the two projects came together. So Draco wrote books, and Ginny illustrated them.  
  
Some of you may think that this kind of happy ending never happens in real life, and maybe it doesn't. I guess it's a good thing we live in the magical world, then, isn't it?  
  
The End.  
  
Draco typed the last of the story and sat back, content with his latest.  
  
The Real End.  
  
A/n: I feel like a great weight has been lifted. If you didn't like the ending, invent your own and keep it to yourself. If it was to your liking, do me a favor and review, okay?  
  
Love you all so much,  
TheLastStroke 


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